


Porcelain

by razielim



Series: Merry Smutmas 2016 [1]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Royalty, Blindfolds, Courtesan AU, First Time, Light Bondage, Loss of Virginity, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-25
Updated: 2016-12-25
Packaged: 2018-09-10 23:36:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,601
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8943907
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/razielim/pseuds/razielim
Summary: The young Lord Kogane is notoriously difficult to please. In honor of his 22nd birthday, Chief Advisor Coran tries once last time, and against all odds, the pretty courtesan that he has selected, Shiro, catches his Lord's eye.for lipstickandbarbedwire





	

“Your Grace, I really do think this one is exactly what you have been looking for.”

Keith doubted it. So bored of all the lovers he’d been presented with so far in his life, he would rather never lie with anyone again than be disappointed once more.

And yet…

“I’m sure he’ll be lovely, Coran.”

It would be unnecessarily mean to his Chief Advisor to not accept the gift.

Coran walked a little straighter after that, stride a bit more energetic.

Keith wondered what the courtesan was going to look like as they made their way to his bedchambers. Petite and young, of course, but would he be sweet blonde or lovely brunette this time? Bright eyes or dark and sensually lidded? Despite the anticipation of bitter disappointment, he felt his cheeks prick with heat.

Even if the deed itself was never satisfying, the boys were always lovely.

Coran frantically waved at the guards stationed at Keith’s royal bedchamber, stopping them from opening the carved doors. Rushing up, he got a hold of one of the handles and cleared his throat, mustache wiggling with pride and satisfaction.

“May I present to you, Your Grace, the loveliest courtesan in all of the Lyons, and my present to you, on your most exalted day of birth,” Coran announced and swung the door open.

Keith restrained his laughter as he walked forward to see his gift.

On his bed, draped in delicate black and violet organza scarves…

Sat the biggest courtesan Keith had ever seen.

He stopped dead, the smile slipping from his face.

His eyes fixed onto broad, muscular shoulders, and he wondered if maybe they had walked to the wrong room. Even from the boy’s- man’s- kneeling position, it was plain to see that he was tall. Keith finally remembered to look at his face.

He wasn’t sure which was the most unexpected. The long, pretty lashes, well visible even at this distance? The sweet, pink mouth on an otherwise inelegant man? The shockingly white hair that fell into his face in a gentle forelock? The ugly scar that ran across his nose to either cheek?

Keith pulled away from the confusing presentation and looked to Coran for an explanation.

Chief Advisor Coran beamed at him, seemingly unaware of anything out of the ordinary. Then he looked past past his Prince and into the room, gesturing.

“Shiro, darling, come and let the Prince have a better look at you.”

Keith turned to the man once more.

The man moved with an easy, limber grace. Feet touched the floor softly, and Keith gazed at them in wonder as they came closer.

How did they move so quietly while carrying such a beast of a man?

The feet stopped, and Keith looked up.

All thoughts of broad shoulders fell away as he studied those incredible lashes, softly fluttering over flushed cheeks with each blink. The scar was still jarring, but the lips were even more alluring now that he could see in greater detail their graceful curves.

“Your Grace,” the courtesan spoke and Keith’s breath hitched.

He looked to Coran, who was watching his face and wringing his hands.

“I know he’s not _standard_ , Your Grace, but I thought you might find that there is a great beauty to him. And perhaps something different is exactly what the physician ordered?”

Keith swallowed and glanced at the courtesan’s lips again, letting that dark silk voice echo around his head.

“Oh… I’ve made a terrible mistake, haven’t I? I really was hoping that maybe he would spark your interest, but I do have a backup present, Your Grace. You’ll love him- very lithe, petite wrists and ankles, sweetly dark skin, hair a dazz-”

“This one is fine, Coran. Thank you,” he said through a slightly forced but wide smile.

“Oh!” Coran’s face reddened in delight. “In that case, I will take my leave, Your Grace. Good night! And happy birthday!”

“Thank you, Coran.”

Keith waited until the door was shut before letting his smile slip and turning back to the odd beauty in front of him. He was much too curious to smile right now.

“How did you get that scar?”

The courtesan, Shiro, met his eyes briefly in a flicker of lashes.

“I used to be a slave in the colosseum.”

“No surprise there, I suppose. How did you come to work in the pleasure houses?”

There was a pinkening across Shiro’s high cheekbones.

“It was my reward for my good service to my masters in the colosseum. After… I lost my arm and could no longer fight.”

What he had assumed to be a decorative sleeve was a high quality prosthesis, moving as naturally as if it were flesh and decorated in roses and thorny vines.

“You were good?”

“I was undefeated for years.”

“Ahh-” Keith felt a twinge of irritation with himself for skipping out on colosseum festivities and not making the connection sooner. “You are the fighter known as Champion? What sort of reward is it to go work in the pleasure houses?”

The pink cheeks grew darker and the courtesan’s gaze fell even lower, settling all the way on the carpet.

“One that may have been made in jest, but I am grateful to it nonetheless. So far, it has been a gentle fate.”

Keith approached him, wary and annoyed by the man’s looming height, reaching for the prosthetic arm.

“It's only been a few months since the Champion fell from grace, hasn't it? Have you been with many clients in your new service?”

Shiro’s eyes briefly grazed his.

“I was chosen for you because I am still a virgin, Your Grace. I have not yet serviced anyone in my new duty.”

Keith’s hands halted in their exploration of the delicate porcelain of Shiro’s right arm. A great big man like this, straight from a fighting pit, upon closer inspection covered in countless scars…

About to submit to a deflowering.

It seemed absurd.

Keith pulled him towards his bed.

“Your masters never…?”

“No, Your Grace.”

“And you, between your fights, never sought comfort in the arms of your fellow combatants?”

“No, Your Grace,” was repeated in an embarrassed whisper.

Keith stopped and swung Shiro around to stand in front of him, meeting no resistance, the courtesan’s steps soft and balanced.

“They trained you well in the pleasure houses. Apart from your build, you show none of the barbaric nature of a warrior.”

Shiro let a soft smile show.

“My masters have always commented on my mild manners, even in the colosseum.”

“Mild or not, I would have you look me in the eyes.”

Shiro obeyed, gaze slipping away a couple times before finally holding.

He was very attractive, now that Keith had sorted through the matter of his size and deformities. So much so that Keith understood what Shiro had meant when he said he was sent to the pleasure houses as a joke. It was surprising that he had made it out of the colosseum with his virtue intact. Powerful fighter or not, someone would have had a chance to take advantage of him. Keith wondered if the courtesan was lying. Not that he could blame him if that was the case.

Keith approached him, pressing into the man’s warm body, letting his open hand stroke across the powerful jaw.

“Pleasure me, Champion.”

Shiro’s kiss fell softly onto his lips and he let himself relax under it, enjoying its delicate complexity. Vaguely, he wondered if any of this came naturally to Shiro like it did to all the other boys Keith had been with, or if Shiro was simply determined to please his masters and continue living the pampered life of a plaything for as long as possible, knowing the alternative all too intimately.

Strong hands rubbed surely over his sides and back, warming Keith’s skin and priming it for more intimate pleasures.

“Undress,” Keith breathed out against petal lips.

The hands moved away, and Keith felt somewhat graceless attempts to unwrap and untie organza scarves from between their bodies. Finally, the short length of Shiro’s training was starting to show and Keith smiled into the kiss, content to know that this would be a more earnest coupling than he had ever experienced before.

“Your masters at the pleasure house- did they recommend you to Coran?”

Shiro’s eyes were full of hesitation.

“No.”

“No, of course not. A barely trained brute, ruining their reputation? I’d wager they were quite horrified at the prospect.”

Keith could see that his companion was trying to remain stoic, but there was a growing fear that pulled at his features.

“I don’t mind,” he whispered indulgently, stepping back to examine the thick, ugly scars that marred the sculpted chest and abs before him. The cock between Shiro’s muscular thighs was already growing, and that only amused Keith further. Considering Shiro’s build, Keith wondered if he was imagining having his Prince under him, despite the absurdity of such a fantasy.

He pushed, gently, and was obeyed.

Shiro fell back onto the high mattress, thighs sloping off the edge, his left foot subtly trying to find a comfortable position resting against the gilt bed frame.

It was a shame that Shiro had ever ended up fighting in the colosseum. He looked even more lovely on his back, legs slightly parted, a strong blush on his face as he stared at the ceiling, trying not to breathe too quickly from anxiety.

Keith turned and went to open the chest he kept next to his bedside table.

“Why don’t you make yourself comfortable on the pillows?” he said as he pulled out a vial of oil, lace ties, and a paddle.

Shiro might be pretty, but that wasn’t quite enough in this bedchamber.

He watched Shiro settle nervously in the middle of the large bed as he set down his items on the edge of the mattress and set about undoing the ties of his intricate birthday gown.

“Your Grace, do you need-”

“It’s fine. I can manage,” Keith said with a smile.

The courtesan noticed the paddle and his brows drew together faintly. Had anyone warned him that the Prince had his tastes? Had there been any time? Would it have made any difference?

Keith discarded the last of his clothing and climbed in bed, silk and vial in hand as he crawled closer, basking in the appreciative gaze of his bedmate.

“Hands up to the headboard, Shiro.”

The order was carried out immediately, though with little grace or sensuality, apprehension winning out over the limited training Shiro had received.

Keith tied up the wrist closest to him, enjoying the feel of Shiro’s cool, smooth prosthetic under his fingertips as he looped silk around joint and wood. Then he leaned over and tied the other wrist to a flower ornamentation on the other side, glancing down and grinning at Shiro.

“I’ll go easy on you to start. Wouldn’t want you in tears before we even get in the swing of things.”

With the way Shiro swallowed, the words weren’t reassuring in the least. Not that that was the intent; Keith mostly wanted the courtesan braced for impact rather than expecting an easy time.

He wrapped silk at Shiro’s eyes, gently lifting his head to tie it in a generous bow. Then, sitting back, sprawling comfortably on solid abs, he appraised his work.

Shiro’s stomach was rising and falling purposefully and deeply under him- a last and desperate attempt to maintain control over his breathing, even as it sped up. Keith wondered how much of it was fear of the unknown and how much of it was from having a naked prince sit atop him, so close to his hips.

Keith smoothed his hands over the powerful, scarred chest, his own body reacting to hard muscle, tightening his throat and filling his cock. He scraped his nails into the skin, watching Shiro shiver.

Why had he never requested a man instead of a boy before? There was certainly something thrilling about being in bed with someone much bigger and stronger and having all the power.

“Tell me, Shiro. How do you imagine it?”

“Imagine what, Your Grace?” came the deep voice, soft with hesitation, but still thrilling in its timbre.

“How do you imagine being with me? If it were up to you, how would you pleasure me?”

There was a distinct red blotching across the cheeks that spread up under the blindfold.

“I don’t know what pleases Your Grace.”

Keith wished he could listen to Shiro talk forever. Maybe after this, he could give the man a book and have him read Keith to sleep. Assuming the slave was literate.

“Would you fuck me?” Keith asked with a roll of his hips against that delightful body, feeling the very tip of Shiro’s cock graze his ass.

“I...” Shiro’s hips jerked just a bit, pink lips just slightly parted in need. Keith imagined that his eyes were wide and scared under the blindfold. “If it pleases Your Grace.”

“What would please me would be to hear your voice. How would you fuck me, Shiro?” he asked, shifting back a bit so he could feel Shiro’s blunt tip press flush against his asscheek.

Shiro gasped lightly, squirming a little as he tried to ease away from the contact rather than buck into it.

“I- I would be very careful not to hurt you, Your Grace. Or to take more than what was offered.”

Keith laughed in delight. It was sweet, to have such a big brute promising him a genteel time because he assumed that’s what a prince would want.

“And what if, what I wanted, was for you to fuck me hard? Pin me down and force me to take the entire length of your large prick?”

Shiro’s face got brighter and his control on his hips slipped, letting his cock thrust shortly against Keith. Liking this game, Keith sat up, crawled back, and sat down squarely onto Shiro’s cock, trapping it in the heat between their bodies. He watched as a strangled moan wrenched its way out of parted lips before Shiro snapped his teeth shut.

“Would you enjoy that, Shiro? Tell me,” he pressed, trying to prompt Shiro to speak more as he reached for the bottle of oil.

“Y-Yes.”

Keith glanced up from spreading oil across his cock and reaching down to slick Shiro’s. Did the man lack imagination or confidence?

“Shiro, I want you to tell me, in explicit detail, how you imagine fucking me. Don’t make me beat it out of you with the paddle.”

Shiro swallowed, gasping and kicking out with his legs when Keith squeezed him too tight.

“I would- I would press you down into the sheets. I would press my fingers against you and rub until you spread your legs for me as wide as they would go-” Shiro faltered around a groan as Keith pressed down against him hard, enjoying the slide of the hot and lube-wet cock against his balls and taint. “I’d push them inside and- and work you open until you were pliant and open and- I’d kiss you as I pushed inside you, and-”

Shiro trailed off, struggling against his restraints as Keith picked up the pace of his insistent slide. The courtesan certainly seemed to lack imagination. And definitely experience, if the way he was falling apart, and his unembellished way of describing sex, was anything to go by. And yet-

Keith pulled away from Shiro’s body with a sigh, savoring the needy whine.

And yet that nice, rough voice was working for Keith.

Didn’t seem fair that Keith could be so turned on by something and still not be able to come, while this man was probably a few more thrusts against Keith away from spilling all over himself.

Shiro seemed to finally regain control, and shrunk in on himself, a sad reaction to witness when coming from a capable warrior.

“Did I say the wrong thing, Your Grace? I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to displease you.”

“No,” Keith drawled as he shifted and placed a knee between Shiro’s legs, working on getting Shiro’s shy thighs open and settling comfortably between them. “You were fine. Certainly showcased your innocence, but it was rather sweet.”

Shiro’s head turned to the side and he mumbled another, “I’m sorry, Your Grace.”

“Rather, how about you tell me how you’d like me to fuck you.”

Shiro’s breath hitched visibly. Keith wondered if the man had ever even desired such a thing before being sent to the houses of pleasure and being condemned to it. He poured more oil out onto his fingers, idly spreading it around.

“I- whichever way pleases Your-”

“No, Shiro. I want you to imagine me fucking you. What would I do? How would I do it? Would you like it? Would you like me to do something differently?”

Shiro’s mouth opened and closed around words that weren’t there.

“I- I imagine that- that Your Grace would be gentle? Because Your Grace is quite gifted, and I-”

Growling, Keith pushed Shiro’s knees up to press into the bed next to his chest, lifting his ass up off the mattress. Blindly, he lined his cock up with Shiro’s hole, watching the panicked features and ignoring the alarmed shout.

“So you want me to skip right over preparing you for taking my cock and go right into gently fucking you?”

“No, please-”

“Then-” he leaned over and pressed a kiss to Shiro’s unhappy mouth, “-start from the beginning.”

Backing off, he let Shiro’s shaking legs back down to the bed.

Shiro took a few shuddering breaths before venturing his new attempt, lips quivering as he obviously tried to fight tears.

“Your Grace would- would first get me used to the feeling of something pressing there. You w- Your Grace-”

“Feel free to order me as if I wasn’t a prince. No need to stand on ceremony,” Keith interrupted, slick fingers tracing over Shiro’s right thigh, which tried to twitch shut in response.

Shiro hesitated, his words coming out stilted as he tried to compromise his language.

“You- you would move your fingers down to- to my- my, uh-”

Keith very deliberately did not move his fingers down to Shiro’s anything.

“Your asshole? You can go ahead and say that. ‘Please touch my asshole, Keith.’”

Shiro’s head snapped up from the cushion it was laying on, and if he didn’t have a blindfold on, Keith guessed the look in his eyes would have been one of dismay. No one ever wanted to think of their Prince as a dirty pervert with a foul mouth. Shiro’s head dropped back down.

“P- please touch my hole, Prince Keith.”

Keith laughed, trailing his fingers over the swells and dips of Shiro’s muscles and poking lightly at the tightly clenched rim.

“And then?”

“And then, you- you rub it? Slowly. And massage it?”

Keith went ahead and took pity on him, pressing with a sensual amount of pressure as he worked his fingers across the area, now and then teasing the rim with a playful almost-press into it. Shiro squirmed, but fell silent.

“Keep talking,” Keith murmured, trying to be gentle with his voice.

“Do- do you push a finger in now?” came the small, insecure reply.

Keith went ahead and did just that, letting Shiro decide for himself if that was right or wrong. Shiro’s legs immediately started moving, trying to adjust to the intrusion. He let Keith in without complaint, and yet the way the soles of his feet were dragging over the sheets, Keith had no doubt Shiro would have been pushing his body away from the sensation if he felt he had a say in the matter.

He stopped, waiting for more of that wonderful voice.

“Now you push it in and out.”

Keith barely suppressed laughter, shaking quietly as he robotically did just that, making the motion as lackluster as possible.

It didn’t seem to matter to Shiro, who gasped and twitched, his knees pulling up. Keith noticed Shiro’s cock twitch as he maintained the motion and suddenly felt annoyed. He pressed up with his fingertip, wanting Shiro to know the difference between the sensations, and was immediately rewarded by a startled cry and a jerk of those lovely narrow hips. Keith resumed his previous mechanical motions, waiting.

“No, please! Do that again- do-”

“Do what again?”

“What you did- with your finger- pressing inside me- please-”

He trailed off into a blabbering mess as Keith obliged. Keith cooed, happy to finally get what he’d been hoping for, and ghosted his fingertips up and down the underside of Shiro’s cock for extra sensation. The begging picked up in desperation and dropped in coherency, pretty mouth gasping between cut off syllables.

Shiro turned out to be the kind of man who made a big wet mess when stimulated and Keith stopped teasing his cock to instead push his fingers through all the precome spreading across his abs.

Shiro was panting, his words now breaking off in favor of light breathy whines that Keith wouldn’t have believed him capable of if he hadn’t heard it himself. Keith pressed in a second finger, pausing his assault on Shiro’s prostate to manage the fit.

The whining stopped immediately as the body that was pliant and needy just moments ago froze.

“Is something the matter?”

Shiro shook his head.

“Tell me how it feels.”

“It uh… it feels weird. It felt weird before, but it was smaller. Now… now it’s,” Shiro cut off, frowning but spreading his legs for his Prince nonetheless, “No, I think it’s fine. It just stung at first but…” he broke off into a whisper, “but I think it’s fine.”

Keith wondered if it was actually fine or if the man felt too ridiculous being a courtesan and a retired champion warrior, complaining about the discomfort of having two fingers inside him.

“Do you like it?”

The courtesan bit his lip for a moment before letting it slip out slowly, turning away a bit.

“It’s nice.”

“I told you I wanted to hear you talk, didn’t I?”

“I like it! It’s strange, and… embarrassing, but- but it doesn’t hurt as much as I thought it would. And you’re being very generous, pleasuring me.”

Keith wasn’t sure “generous” was the word most people would use to being tied up and teased, prepped without their full consent, but he started working his fingers against Shiro’s prostate once more to reward him for his rambling thoughts. Squirming hips soon turned to shaking knees, and awkward words soon turned to mumbled moans as Shiro both melted and flexed, trying to push down onto the stimulation.

Unable to resist a bit more torture, Keith returned his cruel, there-one-moment-and-gone-the-next touches to Shiro’s cock, stroking at the glans, making the erection and pelvis both strain up into the attention. He laughed as Shiro turned into a mess of whining and moaning once more, his body completely giving in to begging for what it needed.

Suddenly remembering that he was toying with a repressed virgin, who could at any moment rather unpredictably come even from this complete lack of substantial touch, Keith moved his fingers down to Shiro’s balls, petting playfully as Shiro protested and breathily begged for more. Keith kept the motions of his fingers inside Shiro gentle, but toyed with the limits of the spasming hole to prepare it for what came next.

Shiro, oblivious, only moaned, legs trying to subtly guide Keith closer.

Overwhelmed by the needy noises and motions, Keith decided he’d entertained his birthday present enough. It was time for Shiro to give back.

He pulled his fingers out, lips curling in pleasure at the protesting whine, and reached out to briefly reapply oil to his length which was just turning a dark, heavy color in its need. Slowly, carefully, so as not to startle Shiro into tears again, he lifted both knees once more, enjoying the view of powerful thighs framing that slick and twitching rim. Shiro didn’t seem to realize what was happening as he remained panting softly, trying to catch his breath, even as his hips rolled with a painful need to come.

Keith paused for a moment. Aroused as he was, he knew this was only just the beginning of a long night. It didn’t seem right to upset the pretty thing now, when he still had so far to go.

“Shiro, I’m going to take you now.”

That seemed to catch the courtesan out of whatever thoughts he’d been lost in.

“I’ll be as gentle with you as possible if you promise to keep talking. Will you do that for me?”

“What should I say?” came the wavering voice, and Keith realized that despite his care, Shiro was upset anyway.

“Beg me to fill you up. Tell me how you want it- slower, faster- Tell me if you like it, or what you don’t like. Whatever you need to say, but I want to keep hearing your pretty voice.”

Shiro swallowed, ran his tongue over soft lips, and started with a stutter.

“I- I want you, Your Grace,” he managed first, falling back on the honorific. “I want to know what it would be like, to have your full length inside me. I wish you would take pleasure in me, and- and I could see your face as you do-”

Keith almost choked at the pleasure of that wonderful, husky voice saying those things with such innocent honesty, oblivious to how much he might hurt when it happened.

Strengthening his grip on wonderfully formed knees, hooking one over his shoulder, Keith lined himself up and pressed forward, eyes fluttering at the heat of the sensation.

“-I hope that you are able to enjoy me the way you wish. I don’t mind if you go at your own speed, I am here to please Your Grace-”

The tight muscle of Shiro’s hole was denying him entry and Keith had to reach down to line himself up. Shiro’s words were starting to become circular, lacking in anything to say, and yet, despite their pitch climbing from nerves, it was the most beautiful thing he’d ever heard.

The head of his cock breached the rim, his whole world being submerged into the wonderful slick heat and breathy voice of Shiro, Shiro, Shiro-

It started with a moan and then fell apart into a startled gasp. His hips jerked roughly of their own volition as he came inside his bed partner, pulling small cries of alarm from between Shiro’s words.

Keith panted, eyes wide open and staring at Shiro’s prone body beneath him. Pretty legs had slipped out of his grasp and he found himself braced with hands on either side of a muscular waist.

Shiro had stopped talking.

Keith looked up to his face, and saw his lips parted in a perfect circle of surprise.

He pulled out, drawing a pained and startled cry from the courtesan, but he ignored it, rolling off the bed, grabbing a robe as he went to the pitcher of water that stood near the windows that looked out at the gardens.

Wrapped up tightly in silk, tight enough to hide from the world, he sipped water, staring out at the twinkling lanterns outside with unseeing eyes.

His body was still abuzz with light washes of pleasure, every muscle from the waist down unwound. But no matter how many bracing breaths he took, nothing seemed able to relax his tight shoulders.

He’d been unprepared.

Years of playing with pretty, perfectly trained things in his bedroom, and not once was he ever able to come. No matter how he experimented with pleasure. No whips or chains or silk scarves did the trick. And then-

The largest, _ugliest_ fucking courtesan-

Keith cut off his belligerent thinking. Shiro wasn’t ugly by any stretch of the imagination. He simply wasn’t a boy. He was a man. A pretty man with a voice like feather down that Keith could just sink into and a body shaped by a war god.

He thought about pretty, virgin Shiro, still tied up in the bed, come leaking out of his barely penetrated hole, naked and blindfolded and terrified. Keith wondered if he was crying quietly. Or shaking with fear. Wondering what he’d done wrong. Even a champion could be undone by being tied to a bed and forced to receive a prince between his legs.

Keith wondered what would happen to Shiro tomorrow. Would he resume his training to become a better, more demure lover? Or would he be damaged goods now and be thrown to any customer that pointed to him in the pleasure houses? Would he be treated as lesser because he hadn’t completed his training?

It would be sad, a man like that, tossed away. A virgin, and Shiro was, really, still a virgin, tossed away to the dogs to be torn apart because he was too damaged to fight in the colosseum and too unrefined to become a respectable courtesan of standing.

He turned away from the open window to look at the prone figure in his royal bed. From this distance, it wasn’t clear how Shiro was reacting. Moving as quietly as possible, Keith set down his glass of water and padded over.

He stopped at the side of the bed and held his breath as he tried to take Shiro in without being noticed.

Those long, muscular legs were folded closed now, held tightly shut as if to deny having ever been open. Shiro’s strong jaw was quivering slightly, and Keith thought he heard a small squeak.

He was crying, then.

Was it the hurt of being used? Or was he also thinking of all the things Keith had wondered about? Was he crying for what tomorrow would bring?

Keith lifted his knee to climb up. The fabric of the silk covering rustled and Shiro turned to face him immediately. Keith hesitated.

Shiro’s blindfold looked like it had distinct tear splotches soaked into it, and Keith found himself atop the bed, crawling in close to kiss at it gently.

Shiro held still, obviously unsure how to react to the action, but to Keith it was obvious that he owed this. Years of being unable to come with anyone, unable to unwind and release, and this man took him apart with his sweet voice and sweeter innocence.

He glanced down to find that despite Keith’s awful abandoning him, Shiro’s cock was still hard, dark with blood and needing attention.

He reached down, getting a firm grip as he pressed a kiss to Shiro’s wonderful lips. He’d barely managed a few strokes before Shiro was coming, hips lifting off the covers as his whole body convulsed, that lovely voice crying out into Keith’s lips, before settling into shaking and gasping.

Keith kept kissing him as he worked Shiro’s come all over the softening cock, lips trailing across his perfect cheekbone and delicate ear and down his muscular neck.

Shiro squirmed as the sensations on his cock likely got to be too much, but aside from letting a soft whimper slip, didn't complain. Keith kept going as he sucked a bruise onto Shiro’s chest, enjoying administering a bit of torture, even if it was after the fact. Shiro made more pitiful noises, that wonderful voice broken and squeaky.

Keith finally let go, lifting his hand to spread the mess on his fingers around Shiro’s chest, watching the heaving breaths slow.

“You're going to stay with me.”

“Of course, Your Grace.”

Keith looked at Shiro’s face, tilted towards his prince in easy earnestness.

He reached out and undid silk ties- first from one hand, then the other, then finally unwinding the sash around Shiro’s head.

He'd forgotten how beautiful and kind and sharp those eyes were and found himself arrested in their curious, hesitant gaze.

Clearing his throat, Keith traced Shiro’s jaw with a single finger, watching the gesture to avoid those too-lovely eyes.

“I do not mean for the night.”

When he glanced up for a response, the courtesan had his brows drawn softly. It was a while before the question was ventured.

“What do you-what does Your Grace mean?”

Keith smiled softly at the question and the obvious answer.

“I mean you no longer work for the pleasure houses. You are now my Royal Concubine.”

Shiro stiffened and was halfway to a sitting position before he remembered himself and relaxed back into the sheets, arms still docilely placed where they'd been tied up.

“Your Grace, I am not- I don't have the proper-”

“There will be no negotiation. This is my royal decree. Or, rather, what I would like more than anything as a birthday gift.”

Shiro remained silent, and Keith took the opportunity to lie his head on the man’s shoulder, hit with the post-bliss tiredness all at once now that his anxiety had been resolved.

“Put your arm around me, Shiro.”

Awkwardly, and with a lot of jostling, Shiro obeyed, porcelain fingers digging tightly into Keith’s side before jerking and resting against his skin lightly as Shiro registered who he was holding. Keith laughed softly to himself.

He sighed, ready to drift off.

“Why?” Shiro asked suddenly, quietly. “I have little skill.”

“And yet, enough skill to be the first to make me come. But we’ll have to work on your filthy talk.”

Keith let himself sleep, feeling light and amused as he felt Shiro jerk again, confused and thrown by the surprising answer.

Maybe he'd answer his concubine’s further questions when he woke up.


End file.
